I woke up this morning to the best kind of surprise — well, the best surprise a single man can wake up to, anyway. Er, apart from that.

You’ll be glad to hear that after my woeful plea for help last week I did, um, nothing. I watered the tomato plants a little more, and I pulled off some of the poorly lower shoots, but I still haven’t pinched them out. So there. And, get this, I was rewarded with… ONE MORE TOMATO. That’s a one hundred percent improvement over last week! I’m not ashamed to say that today I am a stupendously proud tomato grower. A tomato aficionado.

I like to think, if I were a parent, I’d be the kind to throw my newborn child into the woods and see how they do. Minimal interference, 1970s-style parenting. Live and let live. If they manage to haul themselves back to civilisation by their sixth birthday, they’re acknowledged as my offspring and written into the will. If not, well… I hope someone finds them in the woods and pinches them out to ensure good, bushy growth.

Anyway, two tomatoes means we’re now into salad territory. I should’ve grown some lettuces or something — they’re much easier than tomatoes, right? No mean, barbaric pinching out required at all either…

A dramatic build-up for Monday
My mother made me do it


I am a tall, hairy, British writer who blogs about technology, photography, travel, and whatever else catches my eye.